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But what if the paternity test wasn’t about Linc at all? What if it was about a baby who hadn't even been born yet?
What if Mr. Black was the one who knocked Iris up?
11
I stare at Savannah with unblinking eyes as my body goes numb.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She glares at me, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “What’s your problem, Pool Girl?”
“Nothing,” I mutter as I stoop to pick up my backpack with shaking hands. “I gotta go.”
I’m halfway to the door before I remember why I came in here in the first place, and I toss a warning over my shoulder before I step into the hall.
“Stop fucking with my tests. I mean it.”
She just huffs a cruel laugh, but I hardly even care. I can’t focus on tests or sabotaged grades when a new thought is crawling around inside my brain like a giant centipede on the loose.
Mr. Black.
And Iris.
Fucking hell. They could’ve met through Lincoln, when he hooked up with her a few times last year. If she came to his house, there’s a decent chance she saw Mr. Black there. And I already know from Linc that his dad isn’t exactly faithful to his mom, and that the older man’s tastes tend to skew young.
I’m shaking so hard my legs feel like they might give out from under me as a combination of excitement, disgust, and anger wells up inside me.
For the first time since my mom’s arrest, I feel like I’m closer to the truth than I’ve ever been. Closer to digging up the facts that will set her free.
But if I’m right? If this is the truth?
Then everything is so fucked.
I walk down the stairs like an eighty-year old, clinging to the railing for dear life. It’s almost twenty minutes after three o’clock by now, and I’m sure Lincoln’s already waiting for me by the front doors of the school. Probably wondering where I am.
That thought draws me up short, and I sink down onto the steps at the mid-floor landing, tugging my phone out of my bag.
I need to talk to someone. To tell someone what I’m thinking. But it can’t be Lincoln. Not yet.
ME: Hey. I need to talk to you. Can you tell Linc to go ahead without me? And can you stay?
RIVER: Are you okay?
Jesus. That has to be the most worthless word in the English language. What does it even mean?
Am I alive? Yes.
Am I in immediate danger? No.
Am I okay?
How the hell should I know? It’s all fucking relative.
ME: Yeah.
Maybe River can read between the lines of that single-word answer, because his next response comes quickly.
RIVER: Yeah okay. I’ll tell him. What about Dax and Chase?
ME: Just you. Please.
